


Badminton Tournament?

by Grubbly_Plank



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 1998)
Genre: Comic, F/F, Fluff, Funny, Romance, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 06:36:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17095658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grubbly_Plank/pseuds/Grubbly_Plank
Summary: Imogen suggests a badminton tournament for the students, but Amelia thinks the staff should join in too..





	Badminton Tournament?

The winter term was always the hardest. The days were short, and the lack of natural light drove the girls to extremes; everyone was on edge, Amelia included. Today was no different. Only today, Imogen was making things worse, she was winding Constance up. Glasses firmly over her eyes and her hair providing a steely curtain, Amelia turned to the window - cheesecake in hand - and ignored the stream of bickering behind her. 

‘Amelia!’ Imogen - as usual - called on her for help against Constance. Amelia pretended not to hear, widening her eyes a little as she sucked cheesecake from her friendly spoon. 

‘Amelia, please!’ Imogen started again ‘I’ve been planning this for weeks..’ Imogen trailed off.

‘Well you’ll have to unplan it’ Constance’s reply: mellifluous and smug. Imogen hated the woman, and Constance didn’t stop there - ‘The winter exams are some of the most important in the entire academic year, and I certainly do not intend for the third years to be wasting their revision time prancing around in a pointless badminton tournament’ Constance placed special emphasis on the word badminton, and wiggled her fingers dismissively as if she didn’t believe such a thing existed. 

Imogen massaged her tense neck, ‘But it’s just what they need - they can’t go outside in this cold, they haven’t exercised in weeks!’ The PE teacher would not back down lightly.

Constance, taller and clothed from head to toe in black, peered down at the lithe PE teacher, and brushed sardonically, ‘Oh, but they will be exercising’ crossing her arms strategically ‘exercising their minds.’ She smirked. 

Amelia, still gnawing on the cheesecake, added: ‘Constance, the badminton tournament will not be cancelled.’ She didn’t need to turn to know the look of incredulity ruffling Constance’s face.

‘I quite agree with Imogen, the girls need a more physical outlet for their energy. Useful though revision is, Constance, I think this tournament could well dispel some of tension that has arisen between the students, and make them easier to manage.’ Now she turned, her blue eyes twinkling and a motherly, but mischievous smile on her face. 

‘In fact, a bit of sport might be what we all need.’ 

‘But, headmistress’ Constance interrupted.

Stopping her, Amelia raised a hand and continued to smile, ‘In fact, Imogen, why don’t we prepare a staff tournament too?’ She placed her hand on Imogen’s shoulder. ‘Doubles. Me and Davina versus you and Constance’ Amelia grinned, that ought to keep the bickering pair out of her hair. 

Imogen stuttered; her victory was bittersweet. The tournament was going ahead: excellent. She was going to organise one for the staff too: brilliant. She was going to be on a team with Constance Hardbroom: catastrophic. 

‘I, I’ll get started straight away’ she breezed, and left the staff room blooming. She wouldn’t bite the hand that fed; Constance would be on her team. They would win and Imogen would make sure of it, even if it meant withstanding a whole week of her diatribe. 

Constance pursed her lips so tightly that Amelia though she might pop, but before she could tell, the Deputy Headmistress had vanished. 

****

‘Not like that Mildred!’ Imogen shouted to a scruffy girl who was squashing shuttlecocks in a bag.

A bell signalling the end of the day clattered above them, and muffled feet seemed to move behind every wall.  
‘Never mind, I’ll sort them out, off you go.’ Kindly, Imogen wafted Mildred out. The girl turned ‘Sorry Miss Drill, I was rushing..’  
‘It’s fine Mildred, go and enjoy your evening’ Imogen waved the girl, the last of the class out of the hall. Classes over, she was on the warpath; Constance needed to practice. Imogen hurtled toward the Potions room. 

‘Hello teammate. Time to practice!’ Imogen burst through the Potion lab’s door, without knocking, Constance noted. 

Constance’s first year potion class had ended badly. She had asked a young and - she admitted - frightened pupil to clear away the ingredients. She hadn’t known the girl’s hands were shaking so much, or she wouldn’t have asked her. A disaster. A whole year’s worth of spider’s egg powder, flecked with broken glass, dusted the floor of the room. The girl had run away tearfully at Constance’s boomed punishment of a 1000 lines. 

‘Miss Drill, now is not the time’ The kneeling witch, whose black dress was spotted with powder, glared icily. 

‘I beg to differ’ Imogen would not be ignored ‘Just magic it away’ she gestured. 

‘This is spider’s egg powder Miss Drill; a magical amplifier. I cannot simply magic it away’ she mocked Imogen’s gesture with vemon. 

‘I’ll help then, less time wasted if we both sweep’. Cheerily unruffled, Imogen began sweeping. 

The two teachers did not speak. Imogen knew small talk might lose her any opportunity she had to persuade Constance to practice badminton. 

Almost finished, Imogen got onto her knees to sweep up the last bits with a dustpan and brush. She yelped and sprang up. Constance looked up inquisitively.  
‘What’s the matter?’

‘Glass’ Imogen sighed and indicated her knee.

Constance moved closer to Imogen, she would help.

‘Don’t touch it!’ Imogen shouted.

‘It’s only a bit of glass Miss Drill’ Constance teased. 

‘I said don’t touch it!’ 

Constance firmly and gently held Imogen’s hand out of the way, removed the glass and cast a healing spell. When she looked up to Imogen’s face, she found the PE teacher’s eyes tightly scrunched up. 

‘There, there, Miss Drill, you can take a peek now, the monstrous glass has gone.’ She teased again. 

Imogen opened her eyes to see Constance lightly smiling in front of her, brandishing an embarrassingly small piece of glass. 

‘Well it did hurt’ Imogen attempted.

‘I’m sure it did’ Constance’s light teasing tone continuing as she blasted the glass into thin air. 

‘Thanks’.

A little silence rippled through the potions lab. 

‘So, I think we ought to get practicing our game if we’re going to beat Amelia and Davina’ Imogen returned to her earlier mission. 

‘Really, Imogen, it’s ridiculous. This harebrained tournament of Amelia’s will not end well, and I do not intend to waste my valuable time practising for a preposterous parade.’

‘So you’re happy to let Amelia and Davina beat us?’ Imogen added cooly while putting the sweeping brush away. ‘Because if we don’t practice, they will.’

Constance scoffed ‘Those two win, that’s absurd’.

‘I don’t know’ Imogen circled Constance, and pretended to mockingly look over physique ‘When was the last time you played?’ 

‘Now, just because I haven’t..’ 

Imogen interrupted again ‘I mean we wouldn’t want to take any risks. We need to have a game plan, to prepare, to catch them off guard.’ Imogen lightly punched her own hand.

A little flustered Constance chimed ‘I suppose..’

Not waiting for further confirmation Imogen jumped and left the room ‘Great, I’ll see you in the Hall in 20 minutes, wear something you can move in.’ 

‘I don’t have anything..’ Constance began, but Imogen had gone. 

****

Constance paced the potions lab. She didn’t need to check her wardrobe to know she had nothing remotely sports-like in there. She wasn’t a PE teacher, she didn’t need to cater for that, and she could move perfectly well in her high-necked, long-sleeved, long-skirted, dresses. Imogen would just have to make do with that. Why did Amelia have to suggest this? Sport of all things. Constance hated - she had always avoided it - sport. She would be terrible at badminton, and no amount of magic would save her. Sighing she headed toward the hall, maybe practice would minimise the humiliation?

‘On time, as always Constance’ Imogen beamed ‘Let’s get started’

Constance closed the hall doors behind her, and cast spells around the hall.

‘What are you doing! This tournament is going to be fair, no magic involved!’ Imogen marched over to Constance who clasped her hands over her chest. 

‘I have never played Badminton’ She stated reluctantly. ‘I am casting spells to prevent anyone watching our practice’. Imogen understood immediately.

‘Don’t you have any sort of appropriate clothing?’

‘Oh yes, I have piles of sports clothes that I just neglected to change into when instructed’ Constance replied tersely. 

Imogen smiled, and liltingly replied ‘All right!’ She paused ‘You’ll have to borrow some of mine’ and strode to the door. 

‘If you wouldn’t mind’ She gestured to Constance who lifted the spell.

What had Miss Hardbroom let herself in for? She smoothed down the top of her hair and paced around the hall. 

****

Imogen had brought the most modest of her gym clothes for Constance. A high necked, and long sleeved navy shirt, relatively loose fitting grey jogging-bottoms, and a pair of trainers. She had thought about a sports bra, but that would have sent Constance over the edge.

In a blink of Imogen’s eye, Constance had disappeared. When she reappeared she was dressed for badminton. The navy shirt was lower than she was used to and she self-consciously ran a finger over her collar bone. Imogen turned away to collect rackets, concealing both her blush and her smile; Constance’s bun looked ridiculous paired with the sports gear. 

Constance was right to seal the hall with spells, she hadn’t lied, she was utterly terrible at Badminton. Her shuttlecocks went everywhere, they bounced off the ceiling, smacked straight into the net and she had even managed to hit herself on the back of the head. 

Imogen had stopped trying to hide her laughter a long while ago, and Constance’s shot to her own head had her in stitches. Constance, angrily aimed a shot right at Imogen, the PE teacher looked up and saw it just in time to step out of the way. The shuttlecock, sadly, lodged itself in the pipes of the school organ. 

At this Imogen’s giggles were uncontrollable, and snapping Constance began to laugh too. 

‘That wasn’t a half bad shot, you know’ 

‘I’m sure Davina would disagree’ Constance still struggling with laughter.

‘Oh, I don’t know, might add a little je ne sais quoi to the school song’ Imogen leant on the net ‘I’m serious though, you would’ve hit me if I hadn’t moved, and that Miss Hardbroom is some serious aim.’ 

‘If only the game was ‘Target Drill’, not badminton.’ Constance returned sarcastically. 

Imogen raised an eyebrow, this could certainly work to her advantage. ‘Well, we can certainly do a bit of’ she fingered inverted commas ‘Target Drill’, to help you gain some more control’

Constance managed to correctly target Miss Drill for the next 10 minutes. She had even ran to match Imogen’s more challenging movements across the court; she was actually enjoying it. 

‘We’re going to trash those two!’ Imogen fist pumped as she packed away the net. 

‘You might need to actually teach me some shots first Imogen.’ Constance shook out her dark hair; it had half escaped from her bun while playing - it might as well come down now. 

Imogen couldn’t see her face beneath the wall of dark hair, but stared, when Constance stood up - face rosy from running -Imogen batted a ridiculous thought away, but didn’t stop looking at the Potions teacher. 

Constance lightly smiled and cast a series of spells that packed the nets away, unsealed the hall, and returned Constance to her normal look: hair tightly bound, black velvet dress and silver keys jangling at her waist. A pile of neatly folded sports clothes beside her. 

‘Thanks’ Imogen smiled spacily. 

‘You are welcome Miss Drill, I’ll be keeping these for a while I think?’ Constance picked up the pile beside her. 

‘Certainly’ 

‘Now, if you don’t mind, I had better get on with some work.’ Constance stated blankly - adding as an after though ‘Until next practice Miss Drill’. Nodding at Imogen she left the room.

‘Until next practice!’ Imogen called after her. That had gone much better than expected, much better indeed.

Without turning Constance smiled and strode off toward the library. Badminton was going to be fun. 

****  
‘Don’t dawdle girls!’ boomed Constance as cowed students crammed into the hall for the morning assembly. She took her place in her seat on the front row; Imogen came in after the girls and sat beside her. 

‘Good morning girls!’ Amelia twinklingly addressed the student body. 

‘Today marks another day of…’ Constance tuned out as Amelia’s cheerful weekly updates washed over her. She did note, that Mildred Hubble seemed to have won a prize for conjuring a particularly piquant lemon meringue pie. No wonder Amelia was so fond of the girl, she smiled to herself. 

‘As for Miss Drill’s badminton tournament, I am sure that you are all aware that it is only days away, and that the prize for the winning team is a trip to Cozy’s Café - on me.’ She paused and smiled at the excitable students. 

‘There is however, another addition to the tournament.’ The girls in front muttered, desperately hoping this wasn’t another set of Miss Hardbroom’s potion challenges. 

‘There will also be a staff tournament’ an exuberant chatter swung around the room. Amelia held out her hands ‘Calm, down girls.’ She continued ‘Miss Bat and I will play a doubles match against Miss Drill and’ pausing ‘Miss Hardbroom’.

A girl in the front row shoved her hand into the air.

‘And what are your prizes Miss Cackle?’

Before Amelia had even opened her mouth - Constance shot menacingly:

‘The tongues of any students who ask pointless questions Jadu.’

‘And on that note - Miss Bat could we have the school song?’ Time to end the assembly Amelia thought.

Davina smiled and lightly began the introduction. Quietly at first, there were little squeaks, like some sort of animal was stuck in the pipes. The shuttlecock was still in the organ. Imogen struggled not to laugh as every other note was replaced by a low squeak. The girls had noticed too, but under Miss Hardbroom’s glare, were still singing resolutely. 

‘Onward ever striding onward..’ they chanted. 

Constance caught Imogen’s now watering eye, and the pair of them burst out laughing. The girls, Amelia and Lavinia followed suit. The whole hall was aglow with giggles and gulps of chirruping laugher. It was infectious. 

A bell rang marking the beginning of lessons, and the laughter continued, rippling round the room. Constance let a minute slip by before stopping the fun; it was good to laugh a little bit. 

‘Quiet!’ She blasted across the hall. ‘To your lessons quickly now girls’ and promptly teleported herself to her classroom.

****  
The hall was set for practice again, and Imogen stood waiting by the window. She thought Constance might not show up, that the practice yesterday might have been too much for her, that she was put off by the shuttlecock-organ episode this morning. In short she nervously thought anything could prevent Constance from appearing. 

‘I think you might be missing something?’ Constance had disapparated right behind her, and Imogen let out a squeal and quickly turned around.

‘I’ll certainly lose my marbles if you keep doing that!’ Constance was holding out the shuttlecock from the organ. Imogen smiled and took it from her.

‘Hasn’t Davina had someone service the organ today?’ Imogen questioned.

Constance impishly nodded with a smile. Imogen laughed. A silence fell between them as Imogen realised she had been looking at Constance’s dark eyes a shade too long, and the Potions teacher hadn’t backed away. Imogen sidled around her and collected the racquets.

They started off with a little more ‘Target Drill’, which went as swimmingly as last time, and then - at Constance’s behest - Imogen began to teach her more controlled shots. Again, they didn’t go well, Constance couldn’t quite grasp how Imogen was doing the particular movements and she didn’t know how to make her own gangly arms move with the precision that Imogen’s did. 

‘Maybe I could just magic some little pictures of you to hit around the court?’ Constance protested.

‘Fair play, no magic.’ Imogen retorted.

‘But this wouldn’t be real magic’ Constance pleaded. Imogen disapprovingly raised an eyebrow and walked over to Constance.

‘It’s not that hard - maybe if I show you?’ She walked round behind Constance.

‘Do you mind?’ She asked, touching Constance didn’t usually go down well, she remembered seeing Icy Stevens fall smack onto the floor after one of Constance’s rebuffs. Constance nodded in approval, and Imogen lightly gripped Constance’s racket over the Potion teacher’s hands. 

Imogen moved the racket in the motion of a forearm swing, narrating her movements as she did so. She might as well have been muttering gobbledegook for all Constance heard, the dark haired woman could not concentrate on anything, let alone Badminton with Imogen so closely behind her. She could feel her breath on her neck as she spoke. 

‘Constance, are you listening!’ Imogen shook her, Constance spun around to face her.  
‘I said try it on your own.’ Imogen spoke, still in her teaching embrace, and her words seemed to lose syllables. They were almost nose to nose. Neither was able to break away, and later unsure as to who leant forward or made the move, their lips softly met and the racket fell to the floor.

Forced apart too soon, they leapt from each other as the door handle rattled and then creaked open. 

‘Sorry to interrupt, but you’d better come quickly Constance. It’s Sybil Hallow, she’s managed to get Arabian itching potion in her eye - again’ Amelia sighed, and assumed the flush in both women’s cheeks was down to their practice. Constance magically changed out of her sports clothes and followed the headmistress away.

Imogen stoop gawping in the hall. What on earth had just happened?!

****

After she had removed the Arabian itching potion from a wet-eyed Sybil Hallow (who continued to cry for two hours after the potion was removed), Constance finally made it up to her room to sit down. 

She was utterly exhausted. She’d dashed around after pupils all day - managed to squeeze in marking a set of books over lunch, had four girls in detention over dinnertime (they’d thrown rice-pudding at one another), and then had to run around the hall for an hour to practice Badminton. And she’d been stupid enough to kiss Imogen. What had she been thinking?

Roughly she pulled her hair down and put on her comfiest pyjamas. She paced around her room, apparently deciding to chose a book from one of the hundreds neatly stacked about. Abruptly she stopped and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She made a small fist and punched Potions for First Years in frustration.

There was light tap on her door.

Oh God no, she thought. She stiffened into a picture of stillness. The knock came again. She could pretend to be out? The knock again. She heard Imogen’s footsteps start to leave. 

She burst through the door, and awkwardly invited Imogen in. 

Imogen openly gawked at her when she was inside. 

‘Sorry, I was just heading for bed.’ Constance noted while brushing a tidying hand through her hair and drawing her arms protectively across her body.

‘Don’t be sorry’ Imogen paused - unsure about the welcomeness of her compliment ‘You look lovely’ she added tentatively. Constance blushed, and started to speak - but only managed to shyly stutter. 

Imogen nodded, and pulled together as much courage as she could muster. ‘I just wanted you to know that it was nice.’ She paused, and looked at Constance, who was staring at her wide-eyed ‘that, I wouldn’t mind if we, if we kissed again.’ Constance had turned beetroot-red, and stayed silent.  
‘but only if you wanted to, of course.’ Imogen quickly added. 

‘I,’ Constance said in a whisper. ‘I would like to’.

Tentatively Constance walked towards Imogen, and reached a hand around her waist. She smiled and kissed the PE teacher deeply - wanting to connect to every bit of her. She couldn’t quite believe it was happening, but here she was - chests pressed together, Imogen’s hands tangled in her hair. This was better than any badminton tournament.


End file.
